


to end up with people who make you feel alone (stable communities in which loneliness can be cured) (Lonelyhearts)

by MadHare0512



Series: fantasy seems to have become reality (love is the only reality and it is not a mere sentiment) [4]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Communication, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drugs, Episode: s01 e04 Lonelyhearts, Established Relationship, F/M, Hugging, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Nonverbal Communication, Pheromones, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Protective Monroe (Grimm), Rape, References to Abuse, Scent Marking, Timeline What Timeline, altered timeline, but nothing happens because Monroe and Rosalee are good lovers, don't do drugs kids, protective Rosalee Calvert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25778938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadHare0512/pseuds/MadHare0512
Summary: Robin William once said, "I used to think the worst thing in life was to end up alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel alone." In some ways, he was right. It is a terrible thing to be surrounded by people who make you feel like you're alone in your struggle, but at least then, you're still surrounded by people. Human interaction is one of the few things a person can't live without. Those who spend a long time in isolation have found it difficult to rejoin society, to interact with people once more. In many cases, those people ended up committing suicide. In many ways, Robin William was right. In many others, it's still better to be surrounded by people. Be wary, however, that you don't end up around the wrong person or people. Even being alone would be better than caught by those who wish to hold you captive and never let you go."There she paused for a while thinking... but the temptation was so great that she could not conquer it."
Relationships: Nick Burkhardt & Hank Griffin, Nick Burkhardt/Monroe, Nick Burkhardt/Rosalee Calvert, Nick Burkhardt/Rosalee Calvert/Monroe, Rosalee Calvert/Monroe
Series: fantasy seems to have become reality (love is the only reality and it is not a mere sentiment) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617997
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	to end up with people who make you feel alone (stable communities in which loneliness can be cured) (Lonelyhearts)

to end up with people who make you feel alone (stable communities in which loneliness can be cured)  
(Lonelyhearts)

By: AndiKaneUnderwood

**AU: Canon Divergence, Altered Timeline**

Robin William once said, "I used to think the worst thing in life was to end up alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you _feel_ alone." In some ways, he was right. It is a terrible thing to be surrounded by people who make you feel like you're alone in your struggle, but at least then, you're still surrounded by people. Human interaction is one of the few things a person can't live without. Those who spend a long time in isolation have found it difficult to rejoin society, to interact with people once more. In many cases, those people ended up committing suicide.

In many ways, Robin William was right. In many others, it's still better to be surrounded by people. Be wary, however, that you don't end up around the wrong person or people.

Even being alone would be better than caught by those who wish to hold you captive and never let you go.

_Grimm~Grimm~Grimm_

_"There she paused for a while thinking... but the temptation was so great that she could not conquer it."_

The windows made a loud bang as they were slammed shut, snapping closed with loud clicks as they were locked. There was a hiss as a gas substance leaked into the room, making her nauseous and the women around her moaned softly as if they knew what was coming. She didn't doubt that they may well have known, but at the moment all that mattered to her was getting out of that house. Her captor was no longer kind and welcoming, she needed to leave. She ran, finding all the windows locked. She didn't bother to wrap her hand before she was throwing it against the window.

The window broke and she climbed out of it, racing into the night. Somehow, she made it to a bridge before the creature caught up to her. She cried, tears streaming down her face as the monster whipped its claws at her, nearly catching her face as she flinched away and kept running. She tripped, falling onto the pavement as she tried to avoid the creature. The light above her flickered and wrenched itself out of its holder, spinning quite suddenly like a buzzsaw as it launched itself towards her head. She whimpered, terror making her faster as the adrenaline kicked in, and scrambled to her feet. She managed to avoid the buzzsaw, climbing to her feet and running right into the path of a car.

The driver honked when he saw her, slamming on the breaks when she didn't move, but it was too late. The driver managed to swerve, a glancing blow instead of a straight-on hit. He came to a stop, groaning, and jumped out of the car once he'd gotten his bearings, rushing over on unsteady legs to check on the woman. "Oh my God," he breathed. "Oh my God! Oh my God!" He knelt next to her, hoping she was still alive. "Oh.."

Someone stepped up behind him, "She's still breathing, call 911." The driver didn't hear him at first, but then the man said, "Hurry up, call 911!" and he hurried back to his car.

The woman breathed heavily, pain crushing her chest and legs. The man knelt next to her, caressing her cheek with his hand. She felt the pain leave her, her body growing weaker, but still, she had to have him. With a smile, she leaned into the soft touch and whispered, "Oh, kiss me."

The man did no such thing, instead, he took his hand and covering her mouth and nose. She struggled, her less injured arm came up and grabbed his sleeve, desperately trying to throw him off, but the man wasn't deterred.

The driver managed to get through to 911. "Yeah, I-I was in a car accident and a woman got hit. She's hurt bad. She-She's lying on the ground." The drive answered all the operator's questions patiently as he could, unaware that just a few feet away, the poor woman was crying out and hoping for help that she wouldn't receive. She slowly stopped struggling, the light in her eyes dying as her hand went limp. The man took his hand away, then glanced at the driver and hurried away.

" _Is she breathing, sir?_ " the operator asked.

The driver nodded, "Yes, she's still breathing." Then the man put the phone on speaker and turned to call out to the man and ask if the woman was okay. When he looked back to the spot the man had been, he wasn't there and the woman lay completely still. He walked over to the woman and tears began slipping down his face.

The woman's eyes gazed unblinking up at the sky, her face still twisted in the last vestiges of her fear.

_Grimm~Grimm~Grimm_

Nick was halfway to the precinct when he got the call. Hank was on the other end giving him an address and telling him to be there soon. Nick changed directions and headed off. He made it to the scene in just under 15 minutes, finding Hank quickly. His badge was around his neck, for now, the strap for his belt had broken and he hadn't been able to find his spare before he had to leave. He'd grab the backup from his locker when he had a spare minute.

Hank was already telling him what was up as he ducked the tape and surveyed the scene. "The driver of the car is Leroy Kent. He says he's driving home from work, drives on to the bridge, and sees the victim running. She runs right in front of his car. He says it happened so fast, he couldn't do anything."

"You get an I.D. on the vic?" Nick asked as they approached the driver.

"No wallet, no purse. Looks like she just got out of bed," Hank replied.

"Did Mr. Kent have anything to drink?"

"He's had a couple, but he's under the limit."

"Any witnesses?"

"The driver said there was one other guy. Told him to call 911, but he didn't stick around. I got guys out doing a canvass now."

Nick nodded, coming to a stop in front of the driver. Hank clapped his shoulder, letting Nick take the lead. "Mr. Kent," Nick said.

The man looked up from where he sat in the ambulance getting his head bandaged by the Paramedics. "Yes?" he asked cautiously.

Nick tilted his head slightly. He'd been in a few accidents before, fender benders mostly and there _was_ a nasty wreck were some idiot had run a red light and barreled right into Monroe's old Beetle, so he felt pretty sure that this man couldn't be feeling at his best. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Is she dead?" Mr. Kent asked instead of answering.

Nick and Hank nodded, "Yeah."

Mr. Kent looked down, "At first I-I-I thought she might be okay. I mean, the guy said she was still breathing."

"Is this the guy that told you to call 911?" Hank asked.

Mr. Kent nodded, "Yes, I..." He glanced down, sadness permeating the air around him, "I ran over there as soon as it happened and he just walked up."

Nick wondered if this couldn't have been a manifestation of his guilty conscious, "And where'd he go?"

Mr. Kent struggled to answer for a moment. Nick chalked it up to the head injury rather than actual guilt. Eventually, Mr. Kent replied, "I don't know, I... I called 911. I looked back and he was gone."

"Any idea what he looked like?" Nick asked, not expecting much there either. If this was a head injury, then it was unlikely he'd remember much at first. Mr. Kent shook his head with a wince, "Not really, no. I was pretty shaken up and I..." he breathed heavily for a moment and Nick felt sympathy huddle close to his heart. "I was paying attention to her," Mr. Kent finished off, looking down again.

One of the Crime Scene Unit came over, glancing at the driver with pity in her eyes, then looked at Nick and Hank. "We're done," she said, "You guys want to take a look?"

Nick nodded, "Yeah," and followed her over. He heard Hank offer a card and a thank you to Mr. Kent behind him before Hank followed as well.

True to Hank's statement, the victim did look like she'd been getting ready for bed; white nightgown and no shoes. "Barefoot and ready for bed, but still wearing makeup?" Hank pointed out confused.

"Maybe she wasn't alone," Nick replied. He'd lived with women most of his life. If they were expecting company for bed, sometimes they wore makeup. Juliette had while he'd lived with her before asking Nick to make himself scarce for the night and while she didn't so much anymore, Rosalee sometimes wore makeup to bed as well. Nick looked down and noticed the cuts on the victim's arms, "We've got some glass here."

"Windshield didn't shatter and the headlights are still intact. This didn't come from the accident," Hank shook his head.

Nick checked something else, "There's no cuts or abrasions on her feet. The guy said she was running, she couldn't have run too far."

"Wonder where she was running to," Hank stood.

Nick was liking a different train of thought, "Or what she was running _from._ "

_Grimm~Grimm~Grimm_

Across town, a man got out of a taxi at the Joyce hotel carrying with him only a big black case. He got up to his room and pushed open the door, praying for some peace even as the baby cried in the background, drowning out the sound of _three_ separate couples having sex and another domestic dispute. The man closed his door with a loud slam and muttering under his breath, he ranted about the noise.

He set his keys and the case on the bed with a growl as his cell phone rang. He yanked it out of his pocket to answer, " _C'est Moi. Jes suis lcl._ I'll call when it'd finished." He hung up and threw the case open. The man pulled out a newspaper clipping, glancing over it as if he hadn't read it a million times. He slammed it down on the bed then reached for his case again. He unlatched the secret compartment and pulled back the flap, unveiling the weapon within. It was old enough to be able to be taken through security with no issues, but the man didn't like leaving things to chance, so he'd taken a few metallic objects with him and kept this specific compartment lead-lined. He didn't plan on being here long enough for anyone to discover this particular weapon, but he'd take no risks today. He lifted the scythe out of the case and unfolded it. The hunter would soon know how it felt to be hunted.

The light glinted off the words etched into the scythe's blade. _Schnitter der Grimms._

 _Reaper of the Grimms_ **(1)**.

_Grimm~Grimm~Grimm_

Dr. Harper was very smart, smarter than many people gave her credit for. Which was why Nick was standing in her office listening to her go over every detail and the possibilities they could possess. "Notice the pupil is fully dilated, filling the eye?" Harper asked, shinning the light into the poor girl's eye to let them see it better.

Nick noticed, "It looks like a shark eyes, is that normal?"

Harper made a noise, "Well, there's usually dilation after death, but I've never seen anything like this before." She clicked off her flashlight and shoved it into her pocket.

Nick straightened up, "You get a tox report?"

"Preliminary says she had a few drinks, not a lot," Harper picked up the report and flipped the page. "Alcohol was point-oh-six."

"Well, what about drugs?"

"So far, none of the usual suspects. Finding the unusual is going to take a little more time."

"Any sign of sexual assault?"

Harper shook her head, "No, but something was interesting. No crush on the lungs." Harper used her hand to emphasize the crushing of the lungs that was hypothetically meant to happen.

"What does that mean?" Nick asked.

Harper launched into the tone she adopted when teaching one of the Detectives something new (which happened often with Nick being a Detective less than a year) and explained. "She was asphyxiated, but it wasn't a result of the accident."

"Someone suffocated her after she was hit with a car?" Nick asked as Hank came in with a soft thump of the doors.

"So, we've got a homicide?" Hank asked glancing between the pair.

Harper replied, "These contusions around her nose and mouth - looks like somebody pinched off her air."

Hank nodded, "I got a hit off her prints." He looked at Nick as he continued, "Victim's name was Faith Collins, 33. Busted for a DUI a few months back. Her license was suspended."

"Get an address?" Nick asked.

"About a mile away from where she got hit. We knew she didn't run very far so it makes sense that she lived close by," Hank replied.

Nick remembered the idea he'd had on the bridge. Out load, he voiced to his partner, "Well, maybe she was running from home." What was at home that she would run away from?

Hank answered the unspoken thought, "I think maybe she was running from her husband. Roy Collins, he's got a record of spousal abuse." Hank gestured with his head for Nick to follow.

Nick followed Hank out to the cars and they headed off to question the husband. On the way, a thought occurred to Nick. He couldn't imagine ever hitting or hurting Monroe or Rosalee intentionally like that. Maybe because through the course of his freshman year his Aunt had brought home an abusive man who liked to take his anger out on kids 20 or so years younger than him and also that in his college days one of his ex-girlfriends tried to do the same. Nick would never raise a hand to his lovers and he knew they'd never raise a hand to them, he didn't want to hurt them like that. So, it completely baffled him that someone would dare to raise a hand to their chosen life partner like that. But if he were to hazard a guess, he'd have to say that some people were just so full of anger they didn't know how to process it. Not that Nick was excusing them or being sympathetic to their actions, anyone who intentionally abused anyone needed to serve jail time and go to therapy, but maybe he understood feeling so angry you didn't know how to process it.

He was broken from his thoughts when they got to the house. Roy Collins wasn't home, so they went to the work address instead. The factory was filled with industrial noises that clogged the Detectives' hearing until they managed to find a quieter corner that Roy Collins was working in. "Are you Roy Collins?" Hank asked as they came to a stop in front of the man.

The man looked up, then sighed and slapped the button to turn the machine off. "What did she tell you?" he demanded, yanking off his hat and tossing it onto the table behind him, nearly causing the hat to fall to the ground. "She saying I hit her?"

Nick shook his head, feeling a flash of anger settle in his chest. He pushed it away, nothing was confirmed in the police reports so there wasn't a point in getting upset on behalf of a dead woman (no matter how insensitive that sounded). "She didn't say anything," Nick replied.

Mr. Collins scoffed, "Well that's different. She usually complains about everything I do." He ripped off his gloves and tossed them down next to the hat.

Nick got a bit fed up with the man's flippant attitude, "Well, she's not going to be complaining anymore. We found your wife's body last night."

Mr. Collins glanced at them in disbelief. "What?" he asked defensively.

"Your wife's been murdered," Hank stated bluntly. Hank had little patience for people suspected of or detained for any kind of abuse. Nick got the feeling he'd dealt with a few cases personally.

Mr. Collins glanced between Nick and Hank in disbelief, "Oh no..."

Hank started talking again, "I know this is difficult, but we need to know the last time you saw her."

Mr. Collins began stumbling over the story, the words tripping over themselves in his shock while his mouth formed words that Mr. Collins couldn't force past his lips. "La-last night."

"What happened?" Nick questioned. No matter the outcome, they needed to know what had caused their victim to run. They would deal with the rest later.

Mr. Collins looked shaken, like any moment he'd lunge for the trashcan near the machines and vomit up his food from the morning. "I-I came home. I came home, I was hungry. Faith wouldn't get off the computer, like always she's gotta connect with her 322 friends. I mean, who the hell's got three hundred twenty-two friends?"

Nick glanced at Hank with a slow breath to disguise his sigh. He'd heard many idiots talk like this, it came with being a cop. You often saw the worst the world had to offer.

Mr. Collins continued, "I mean, I'm hungry- I've been working all day."

"So, you argued?" Hank deduced.

Mr. Collins nodded, "Yeah a-a-an-and she walked out. You know, mad. I didn't," he hit the metal top of the table to his right. "I didn't mean anything I said," he hissed through gritted teeth, anger radiating off of him, but the anger was directed inward, to himself, instead of the detectives or his now-deceased wife.

"Did she tell you where she was going?" Nick asked.

"No," Mr. Collins replied.

"Did you go after her?" Hank questioned.

"No," Mr. Collins shook his head sharply.

"That's your story?"

"It's the truth!" Mr. Collins finally snapped.

"Did anybody see? Did you talk to anybody?" Nick continued, ignoring the anger. It was all part of the job when you were a cop.

Mr. Collins's eyes grew misty and distant, "No, I- I was waiting for her to come _back_. She... She always comes back." He breathed heavily, eyes sad and body heavy. Nick got the feeling that despite how much he'd put his wife through, Roy Collins had loved Faith.

Nick and Hank glanced at each other, then back at Mr. Collins. "You guys think I did something to her? You think I killed my wife?" Mr. Collins demanded with no real heat. Devastation warred with anger in his eyes and though he was angry, there was no force behind it. Not yet.

"Did you?" Hank countered with a shrug.

"You wanna do yourself favor, come downtown with us? We'll put you in a lineup. What do you say?" Nick offered.

Mr. Collins stared at them in something closer to agony than anger, "You want me for a lineup? Arrest me. But you don't have anything on me, 'cause I didn't do it." He looked at Hank, "Where is she?"

Hank sighed through his nose, "Her body's in the morgue."

"When do I get her?"

They began heading back as Hank replied, "Somebody will contact you."

Nick knew from the look on Mr. Collins's face that he'd likely never get over her. He hoped that Mr. Collins found some happiness after this, regardless of the outcome. Nick was quite certain that if Mr. Collins felt _half_ as much as Nick did about his lovers then this would follow him for the rest of his life.

_Grimm~Grimm~Grimm_

"What do you got?" Renard asked. He'd called them back to his office almost immediately after they'd gotten back. Having anticipated this, Nick had made a few calls on the ride over and was immensely thankful for his foresight.

"Well according to her credit cards, Faith had a couple of drinks at a bar called the Blue Moon at around 10:30," Nick replied.

"Bartender said she talked up a couple of the locals but she left alone," Hank continued.

"She didn't have her car, her license was suspended. We're checking with cab companies now, see who picked her up," Nick added. That had been what he'd been doing when they'd arrived at the precinct **(2)**.

Renard checked over the file in his hands, "Called to the house four times for domestic disturbance. The husband has been arrested twice for abuse. I mean, it sounds like a battered wife who couldn't break the cycle. Sure the husband's not covering?"

"Could be," Hank replied. "He admits to arguing with her."

"Any chance she talked to a family member about her problems last night?"

"No calls on her cell after 9:00."

The thought struck Nick so hard, he nearly smacked himself for not seeing it sooner. "What about her 322 friends?" he asked, "Maybe she reached out to one of them."

Hank looked at Nick with the same look that told Nick he was also kicking himself for not thinking of that sooner. They headed back to their desks to find her profiles and Nick managed to get a hit. "Hey, check it," he called to Hank. "She posted last night. Looks like a park." The picture was very beautiful, Nick would admit. A very pretty scene full of nature and water fountains and Nick was entranced for a moment. The picture was captioned, _Could this be any more enchanting?_

"Or a private garden. What time did she send it?" Hank asked as he wheeled around to see Nick's computer.

"11:37," Nick replied, checking the time code. "Now if this was taken from her cell phone, the GPS coordinates should be embedded in the file, right?" Nick coaxed the address from the files, also thankful he'd taken Wu's advice and learn basic computer coding and software, "1516 Longacre Road."

"Map it," Hank directed.

With another few keystrokes, a map to the location was pulled up. Nick examined the digital map, then said, "That's right..." he tapped the screen, "Here."

"Right near the bridge," Hank replied.

"Within running distance," Nick agreed.

Hank hummed, "Click location."

Nick complied, hitting the button and pulling up the proper screen, "The Bramble House, Bred and Breakfast."

"You know it?" Hank asked teasingly.

Nick raised an eyebrow and pinned Hank with a mild look, "When do I have time for a bed or breakfast?" Because he spent most of his days running around Portland chasing leads that may not pan out. On good days he got home around midnight only to rise again at 6. He caught naps as often as he could and spent much of his off-time sleeping. He was lucky to get what food he did and most of it came at dinner before he ran it all off chasing down more leads.

Hank chuckled, "Let's check with the cab companies, see if they made any drop-offs at a BB you 'don't have time for'."

Nick smiled, knowing full well that he stole every moment he could get with his lovers, both of whom had jobs where they made their hours and could take as long as they wanted to on the phone with Nick and each other. After all, one worked mostly on commissions and at a family-owned store while the other co-operated mentioned family-owned store. Nick turned back to the computer and with a few more keystrokes he put his computer to sleep and grabbed his jacket to follow Hank out the door.

They rolled up to the small building and Nick had to admit it looked very beautiful. It was a charming little place with blue painted walla and a balcony window on every floor. It was quaint in a simple way. Hank stopped the car and the pair got out, heading inside to meet the owner. "Not bad," Hank observed. He turned to Nick, "You should make time for a place like this."

Nick, however, was quite taken with the car they'd parked behind. "Check out the '67 MGB Roadster!" he admired the car excitedly. To Hank, he added, "You ready for a little bit of trivia? Royal blue and chrome bumpers, collectors call that model right there the most desirable MG every made." As they headed up the staircase, Nick glanced at Hank, "Impressed?"

Hank nodded, "Mildly." Hank wasn't a car guy, so he wasn't interested, but he was still pretty impressed with the recall Nick had shown.

They headed up the stairs and waited at the front desk for someone to speak with. The sort of mousy looking man that appeared from the backdoor introduced himself as the owner and answered their questions easily. "Yes, of course, I remember her. She came in- I'd say it was after 11 o'clock. I was in the kitchen pulling up some biscuits for breakfast and I head the bell ring, so I went and got the door."

A couple rounded the corner and the owner excused himself for a moment to greet them. He handed the couple a paper, "I've got your bill right here. Hope everything was to your liking."

The woman hugged him with a fond, "Oh, Billy, we just love this place." She kissed his cheek, "It's so magical."

"Thank you," the owner, Billy Capra, and the woman said at the same time.

"We'll see you on our anniversary," the man added in.

Nick looked around the room, then noticed something on the arm of a nearby chair and leaned over to examine it further, running the rest of the conversation out. He picked it up, showing the rather strange looking doll to Hank. He was broken out of his thoughts by the woman saying, "And you two, you're gonna love this place." Nick was startled enough not to notice Hank taking the doll and putting it back on the chair. Hank wondered if they could see the bond they'd grown as partners or if they were just assuming. Either way, it was amusing to see Nick watch the pair go with a kind of shock still clear on his face.

"Newlyweds," Billy Capra's voice broke Nick from his thoughts. "They're a third of my business. So, I'm sorry, where were we?"

"The girl," Nick replied, the last traces of his shock disappearing under the mask he wore as a Detective.

"Of course, yes, right, um..." Billy Capra thought for a moment, then said, "I showed her a room, then the garden."

"But she didn't stay?" Hank clarified.

"No, she didn't have a bag with her, so..." Billy's face got sharp for a moment, "I'm sorry, is there a problem?"

Nick jumped in, "A cab dropped her off. It didn't pick her up. Can you explain that?"

"I don't know. I mean, if they don't want to stay, I can't force them too. You know to tell you the truth, she seemed a little bit concerned or trouble. And it's not my place to get involved in guests' personal lives, so..."

Nick tilted his head, eyes curious. He wondered if Billy was hiding something or if it was because Billy reminded him a lot of the man who'd hurt him back in freshman year, but something was bugging him about Billy Capra. "Can we see the garden?" he asked.

"Of course, yes," Billy replied. "Oh, but I warn you. You might want to stay," he chuckled, leading the way outside. He bumped into Hank as be did, brushing it off with a pat on the shoulder, "Oh excuse me."

Nick caught a whiff of a sweet smell and hummed lightly. It reminded him of Rosalee's cookies, baked goods being her specialties. He was distracted enough that a tap on the shoulder from Billy made him realize he'd not moved. He caught another whiff as Billy said, "This way, Detective. Are you feeling alright?"

Nick nodded, "Fine. Sorry," and followed Hank outside. The garden was full of exotic plants and animals. It was big and lush, green surrounding them. It was beautiful and Nick couldn't help but look at everything that caught his attention. He flushed lightly when Billy caught him. He glanced down as he headed down the stairs beyond the gate, seeing a grey bunny and smiling at it. "Hey," he said softly as the bunny sniffled at his boot, then hopped off into the grass. He looked down at the picture, then around at the garden. "Yeah, this is the place." He looked back at y, "She came here, and then what?" he asked as Hank joined him.

"Oh, I showed her these amber roses that bloom only in Portland." Bed them back through the garden, pointing out the things he'd shown Faith Collins on the way. Nick listened with polite attentiveness, happy to let Billy show off his garden. It was beautiful, why shouldn't Nick appreciate it? "Then she said she wanted to sit for a moment and gather her thought, so I told her that this- Oh, be careful where your step!" Sadly, the warning came too late and something slimy squished under Hank's shoe. Nick looked down from where he was momentarily distracted by the bunny from before again and wondered immediately how he'd managed to miss the hundreds of frogs hopping around the base of the fountain.

Hank groaned in disgust as Billy covered his mouth with his hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that," Hank apologized. They where all silent for a moment and then Billy leaned down, devastated at the loss of one of these frogs. Hank picked up his shoe and Billy took the poor frog's body from the ground.

Nick wondered immediately if Billy would become violent. Then the fountain's reflection caught Nick's attention and he tilted his head to look at it. In place of Billy Capra, there was a horned creature with a goat-like face and a wispy beard. Then it shifted back and Billy Capra was left standing there again. Nick fought against the urge to scream. He didn't want another _Wesen_ case! He swore the universe was laughing at him as he sighed, annoyance drowning out the strange affection he'd felt.

Billy stood again and spoke. "The road is an endangered species. It's the first sign of our extinction when toads die," he explained.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see him," Hank apologized again, seeming lost.

Nick decided it was time they move along. He pulled out his card and leaned over, "Well, if you can think of anything else," he said as he banded the card to Billy.

"Yes, of course. I'll contact you immediately," Billy replied. "Would you like me to show you out?" he asked.

Hank sounded like he was coming out of a dream, "No, we're good." He stared at the frog with wide, blank eyes that unsettled Nick more than he would ever admit.

Nick bumped Hank's arm lightly with his. "Hey," he murmured. He gestured to the exit with his head and offered a nod to Billy as they left, Nick ushering Hand in front of him. Nick glanced back when Billy called after them, "Have a good day," but otherwise kept moving, keeping an eye on Hank.

They got back to the car and Nick paused at the passenger-side door. He watched Hank go around to the driver's side and spoke softly, "You alright? You seemed a little off in the garden." Nick was sure he did too, but that wasn't important at the moment.

Hank shook his head, "Yeah, I'm fine. I don't know what happened, it's fuzzy from the moment he bumped into me."

Nick nodded, "Yeah, same here." He remembered the conversation but the rest was fuzzy and faint. Nick hated the feeling with the utmost passion. He slid into the car and sighed. Then he caught another whiff of the smell from inside the house, imprinted on the collar of his jacked like it didn't want to leave and something rose in him again, leaving him feeling flustered and off-kilter.

Nick knew then that this case would be brutal.

_Grimm~Grimm~Grimm_

Back at the precinct, the man from the hotel strolled into the bullpen and looked around. His lip curled in disgust as he gazed around at the people pushing papers and other files across their desks. All the _Kehrseite_ around filling the room with the terrible stench of Humans.

A shorter male with little hair walked over, eyes curious and alert. The man recognized that look, it was the same one he got when meeting new people. "Can I help you?" the shorter man asked.

The taller man, Slivitch, ket his face school into something more neutral, no need to anger anyone with his distaste for Humans. "Yes, I am looking into the death of a friend of mine. He was _shot_ by one of your Detectives," Slivitch requested.

"Are you a lawyer?" the shorter male questioned instead of answering.

"No," Slivitch assured him, "Just a friend of the family." He pulled the newspaper article from his pocket. "Here's the newspaper article, I brought it along so you'd know what I was talking about." Slivitch handed the paper over to the shorter man.

The officer took it and gestured to the chairs lining the wall of the room. "Take a seat please," then he paused when he saw the article and Slivitch felt a smirk curl the corners of his mouth. They conversed for a few more minutes, then the officer nodded. "Just a moment," the shorter male informed Slivitch. Slivitch nodded and sat down, prepared to wait as long as he had to.

The man turned and knocked on a door leading to an office inside the wall. Slivitch watched as the man went inside.

From inside, Captain Renard gave Wu a curious look as the newspaper article was slid across the desk. He read it over quickly and then looked back up. Quirking an eyebrow he asked, "The man sitting outside?"

The sergeant nodded, "He wants to talk to the officer who shot his friend."

Renard gazed at the man, wondering what this man was doing here, "What did you tell him?"

"I told him we don't give out that kind of information. Sir, he's waiting. How do you want me to handle this?" Sgt Wu asked.

Renard handed the article back and replied, "Tell him the Detective is not available and that someone from the department will get back to him."

Sgt Wu didn't understand but turned to do so anyway, "Yes, sir."

"And make sure to get his name, number, and address. Do a background check and get back to me," Renard added with a nod of finality. Sgt Wu nodded, walking out the door and closing it behind him. Renard watched as the Sergeant explained all of that to the man outside. He knew what that man was, knew exactly what he wanted, and Renard would not give it to him. That man may be dangerous, but there was _nothing_ that would make Renard give any information about that article to him.

Outside the bullpen, Nick and Hank had returned from the Bramble House. "The cab picked her up from the bar, but why did she go to the Bramble House?" Nick asked out loud as he and Hank came up the stairs.

Hank's tone was explanatory as he replied, "She was probably just looking for a place to stay so she wouldn't have to go back home. The cab driver could've recommended it. What does it matter, she didn't stay."

"Well, that's what we need to find out," Nick decided with finality. "She went there, but she didn't stay and she didn't call for another cab."

Hank caught Nick's train of thought and rode with the idea, "You're thinking she ran from there to the bridge."

Nick nodded, "I'm thinking we need to run a background check on Billy Capra, see if any other women had trouble at his place. Also, run a check on unsolved attacks on women or missing women." Just the idea of the Bramble House's owner made his stomach flip and he had to fight to keep the flush off his cheeks. He prayed that it wasn't visible. However, he knew he had to run a check on the man, being as he was the last one to see Faith Collins alive and the fact that he seemed a bit shady regardless. Besides, his instincts were rarely wrong and they led to this man being shady as Hell.

On their way to their desks, Nick noticed a man coming out of the bullpen. Said man had a furious look on his face as he stalked down the stairs and Nick made a mental note to ask the Sergeant about him later.

_Grimm~Grimm~Grimm_

Once all the leads had been exhausted or worked until they couldn't be any longer, Nick and Hank headed out. Nick placed a call to his lovers and told them he'd be late for dinner. He wanted to do some research and he could only do that at the trailer. As he was reading a train horn blared past him. He looked up from his reading and listened for several minutes, then returned to his book. He began to read aloud to himself, "Germany 1895. Kitzbuhel Alps, South of Rattenberg. I have followed and observed a goat-like creature for several days now. I've finally been able to identify him as a _Ziegevolk,_ sometimes known as Bluebeards. I now know he is responsible for defiling several men who seem to have fallen under some sort of spell."

Nick paused there, remembering the smell of the cookies that had hit him just after Billy Capra had touched Hank, then increasing exponentially after Billy Capra had touched _him._ He looked back down at the page. On it, there was a detailed sketch of women drawing water from a well while a goat-headed person holding a shepherd's crook stood across from them with an inviting smile. "I have not yet been able to determine how such an oafish man is so attractive to these poor, young women," the next page showed three women hanging off the man from the previous page in various positions.

Nick closed the book and stood, stretching out the kinks in his back. Then he reached for his cellphone and dialed the familiar numbers. " _Monroe,_ " answered the other end of the call.

Nick smiled, "Monroe, hey. I'm heading home. I have some questions if that's okay?"

Monroe laughed, "Of course, Nicky. I'll heat your dinner, you can eat while we talk. Hurry back. Love you!"

"I will. Love you too," Nick hung up the phone and headed out to the car, locking up the trailer as he did.

Monroe was playing the cello when the dark-haired male unlocked the door, pausing only to remove his gun, badge, shoes, and jacket. The instrument's sound vibrated through the house and Nick felt it in his body to his bones. He leaned against the door framed to watch Monroe play for a moment. Monroe would sometimes play when Nick and Rosalee were too keyed up to sleep, the instrument soothing enough to send them straight to sleep. It was nice now, to hear Monroe play the cello he loved so much.

Monroe looked up at Nick and smiled, "Enjoying the show?"

Nick offered a grin, "How can I not?"

Monroe chuckled softly, then put the cello back in its case and stood. He headed toward the kitchen, "Come on, Rose is showering, so you can eat while we wait for her." The food was delicious as always and Nick's mouth began to water at the smell alone. He ate as quickly as his stomach would allow, easily tucking the food away to be processed by his body and transferred into energy he'd burn off at a later time.

When Rosalee came down from her shower, she sat at the table across from Monroe and next to Nick, laying her head on the younger's shoulder. "Hey, Nicky," she said, pulling him in by the waist.

Nick laughed, "Hi, Rose. Good day at work?"

Rosalee nodded, then sat up straight. "Yours seems to have left you with more questions," she smiled gently.

"How can we help?" Monroe added.

Nick nodded, "Do you know anything about _Ziegevolk_?"

"A little," Monroe replied, "They're mostly like preachers... Game show hosts- you know, actor types?"

"Guys who like to be in the public eye," Rosalee offered, leaning forward with her arms resting on the table.

"Did one goat out on you?" Monroe glanced at Nick curiously, noticing he smelt a bit different than he normally would after a day at the precinct. It wasn't unusual for Nick to come home smelling like the subway, a dumpster, or death in general, but this was something entirely different. He cut his eyes to his female lover and one glance told him Rosalee could smell it too.

Nick's voice shook him from his thoughts, but Monroe still took in subtle whiffs to try and identify the new scent. "Yeah, you know some?" Nick asked.

Monroe nodded, "I knew one in high school." He tilted his head as he thought, "Elvis Greenspan got all the chicks. Like, every hottie in school. Okay, the kid was 5'4", weighed in at like two-eighty."

"I did too. He wasn't all that charming either, short and stubby, kind of looked like a potato with legs, but we ended up dating for a month until he found someone new to play with," Rosalee added in. "It's hard to believe, but _Ziegevolk,_ they give off this sort of scent."

"You mean like pheromones?" Nick's eyes lit up like he'd remembered something important.

Monroe wondered if he'd witnessed a _Ziegevolk_ in action. "Yeah, they secrete it in their sweat or something, chicks can't resist it." Monroe leaned forward, looking Nick in the eyes, "And if one of these goat guys touches you? Watch out man, they own you. Why do you think those Hollywood types are always hugging everybody?" Monroe wanted Nick to know these kinds of creatures where dangerous. Maybe not so much to men, but anything could happen; Nick was living proof of that.

"And would they ever kill?" Nick asked.

"No, Bluebeards' got a bad rep," Rosalee replied with a shake of her head.

Monroe nodded, "They're lovers, not fighters, you know? They like to have a lot of females hanging off their every word. Not exactly the monogamous type, you know?"

Nick opened his mouth, then closed it. He paused, then he and Rosalee pinned Monroe with a pair of incredulously amused looks. Nick raised an eyebrow and Rosalee put her chin in her hand.

Monroe put his hands up in surrender, "I know, I know. Not many _Wesen_ are, but _Ziegevolk_ will go beyond one or two extra partners. They take like 6 or 7 at a time. They live for the _Rut_."

Nick pulled back, confused curiosity lighting off sparks in his eyes. "The what?"

"The _Rut_ ," Rosalee repeated.

"Picking out the choicest females, you know? For breeding." Monroe watched as Nick pulled a face.

"Sounds degrading," the younger male's look was a gross between horrified and disgusted and Monroe couldn't agree more.

That said, the brown-eyed man nodded, "It is. You see 'im in bars all the time. They're players. One-night-stand type of guys."

Nick nodded, thinking that over. He looked like he still had something on his mind, but he asked another question instead. As the hour wore on, Rosalee made tea and Nick asked more about _Ziegevolk_ and if there where any other _Wesen_ like that. Eventually, Nick hesitated and Monroe waited patiently, glancing at Rosalee after a few heartbeats.

Nick started to speak, then cut off. He finally sighed and looked down at his mug, "You said that a _Z_ _iegevolk_ secretes pheromones that affect females. Does it also affect males in any way?"

Monroe thought about that, then nodded, "Yeah, I suppose so. If the said male was also attracted-" He cut himself off as he remembered the smell he'd been so perplexed by. He took another deep breath and finally identified the scent, "You didn't just have one goat out on you."

Rosalee took in a breath as well, then hissed, her eyes flashing dangerously. "One put his hands on you," she spat, a growl rasping in her throat.

Monroe felt his eyes change, glowing a bloody crimson at the idea that someone had tried to claim what was his. A similar growl rattled deep in his chest. He reached across the table and snagged Nick's sleeve, pulling the younger around the table and into a tight hug. He pulled Nick's shirt buttons open and buried his nose in Nick's neck, rooting out every bit of the foreign scent, huffing, and coating it with Monroe's scent instead. When Monroe was done, Rosalee pulled Nick in and did the same. Monroe was pleased that Nick was content to simply stand there and let his lovers do what they needed to. There were a few things Monroe had been worried about when Nick had finally figured out about _Wesen_ , but the instincts were at the top of that list. Monroe and Rosalee couldn't always rein them in. Wolves were territorial and very possessive, foxes weren't much better. Once Monroe and Rosalee had calmed down, they moved to the couch in the living room and continued.

Nick leaned against Monroe, wrapping his arms around Rosalee and pulling her in, clearly exhausted but fighting it off. Monroe was tempted to pick up his cello, but then Rosalee began to sing softly. Nick slowly dropped off, eyes falling shut as his breathing got slower and heavier. "Love you," he mumbled before he was finally out.

Monroe reached around and took Rosalee's hand in his. "Let's go to bed," he murmured.

"What about-" Rosalee protested.

Monroe cut her off with a shake of his head. "We can't fight his battles for him. Besides, you know Nick. He'd never let this _Ziegevolk_ screw him up so badly, he'd never let the guy get close enough. He's happy here."

Rosalee nodded, "That doesn't mean I won't worry."

"I will too, Rose. However, I think he's more than earned the chance to handle it on his own." Monroe's eyes went dark and his voice was sharp as he said, "But if that guy puts his hands on Nick again, he won't see us coming."

Rosalee's smile was just as sharp as she nodded her agreement. Then she stood and helped Monroe get their sleeping lover upstairs and into bed.

_Grimm~Grimm~Grimm_

The next day, the results on the glass finally came back and Nick happily presented them to his partner. "Lab results on the glass removed from the gashes on Faith's arm. It was a regular window glass."

Hank took the paper and looked it over. "So it must have come from a house or an apartment," Hank replied.

"Maybe she was trying to break out of a window." Nick sat down and rolled closer to the desk.

Hank nodded, "Well, we know she was running from something."

"What'd you get on Capra?" Nick asked.

Hank picked up his notepad and read through it, "Well, all I got is that he moved into town about a year and a half ago and bought the Bed and Breakfast. I'm having a little trouble with the background before that. I think our boy must have changed his name." He set the notepad down, "But I _did_ get a hell of a hit on missing women here in Portland in the last six months. One came from Los Angeles, another from Seattle, and a third from Eugene, all open cases."

"Are there clusters like this in other cities?" Nick leaned forward. This could be a big break in the case.

"I think we better find out." Hank went back to his computer, searching for other case reports like the one presented in Portland.

Nick did the same and when they found enough evidence, they brought it to Renard.

As Renard looked over the papers, Hank brought him up to speed. "It's the same story with each one of these women. They all came here in the last four months and vanished."

"Any record of these women staying at Capra's place?" Renard questioned.

Nick shook his head as Hank replied, "No, but then we figured he wouldn't want any record of them staying there."

"And we think Faith got away from him," Nick added in, "Then he hunted her down and killed her. We also found three other clusters of missing women. One in Detroit, four years ago, seven women there. Another batch in De Moines, two years ago, six women there. And four women in Tuscon in 2000." Nick handed Renard the case files he and Hank had put together. Nick sat down in one of the chairs across from Renard.

"And here's the weird thing. All seventeen women were eventually found alive, 14 of them were pregnant," Hank finished up. "The DNA checked out to be the same father for each one."

"So, we've got ourselves a serial rapist," Renard concluded, "Not a serial killer."

"This guy is definitely a breeder," Hank confirmed.

"Well, can you connect him to De Moines, Detroit, Tuscon?" Renard asked.

"We're working on it. We think he changes his identity every time he moves," Nick replied.

"Any of the women able to identify him?"

"No," Nick wished they could. Witness testimony could be unreliable, but it did help sometimes. "Every testimony made it sound like they were kept in isolated conditions using some kind of gas to keep them disoriented. They didn't know where they were or who was holding them." Nick wanted to get this guy, be it Billy Capra or someone else.

"If this is the same guy here in Portland, we need to be watching him." Hank phrased it like a fact, but it was just as much a request.

Renard nodded, "Well, you guys keep watching him. Just make sure he doesn't burn you." He went back to his files, dismissal clear.

Hank and Nick nodded, heading for the door, "We're on it."

_Grimm~Grimm~Grimm_

Back at the Bramble House, Billy Capra had made food for his guests.

He opened the door to the basement and headed down the stairs, careful not to spill anything. It would be terrible if he had to go all the way back up and make it again due to something silly like a missed step. Then his guests would have to wait and he couldn't have that. He headed into the secret room and took the plates off the trays. He'd made something good for them, he certainly hoped they appreciated it. After all, they were his guests, he didn't want to hurt them. What he wanted from them was simple, all he had to do was touch them and they were begging for it. Begging for _him_. Sometimes he didn't even have to touch them to hook them. He hadn't been able to do that when he was younger, but now he'd grown up and he'd learned how to charm someone and that meant it was easier.

"Bon appetite," he called to the cages he'd set the food in front of.

He walked back to the tray and took it back upstairs, turning on the gas valves before he left. As he did, he thought about the visitors he's had the previous day. The taller male with more muscle was of no use to him, but the short one with the dark hair and blue eyes. He'd caught traces of that man's scent, his sense of smell wasn't as good as other _Wesen_ species, but it was good enough to tell that that man smelt like other _Wesen._ Billy almost couldn't wait to find out what kind. He'd never had a male before, but he was always pushing the boundaries, so why not try it out.

Billy would get his pleasure either way. Even if he had to _force_ the dark-haired Detective to enjoy it.

_Grimm~Grimm~Grimm_

Nick watched patiently as Hank carefully leaned down and put the tracking device on the roadster he'd been so excited over. Hank stuck it on and hurried back to the car. Nick raised an eyebrow, his question silent.

Hank nodded, "Piece of cake, we're good to go." He closed the door, settling in his seat, "We can track this guy anywhere."

Nick nodded back, pulling up the map the tracker projected to. "It's working," he showed the map to Hank with a grin, "We're set."

Hank relaxed back into the seat, "Now all we got to do is wait." He closed his eyes, fully intending on sleeping while he could, "Wake me when something happens."

The black-haired male didn't voice his agreement, but he didn't have to. He was younger and perfectly okay taking the first watch. Just as Nick had prepared himself for a long night, Billy Capra came waltzing down the stairs looking fairly happy and dressed up. He nudged Hank with his arm, then again when Hank didn't react, "Wake up."

"Not funny," Hank replied. Nick had pulled the same prank once on a harmless case that didn't require much focus. At the time, it had been three in the morning and Nick was running on coffee and little sleep. Hank had forgiven the prank and moved on, but he wasn't falling for it a second time.

Nick shook his head, "No, he's coming out."

"What?" Hank sat up and opened his eyes.

They watch in silence as Billy by-passed the car completely and began walking down the street. Nick immediately regretting getting distracted by the garden. The shoes Billy was wearing now were the same as in the garden and by God were they worn and well used.

"He's not taking the car?" Hank asked in confusion. "Well, he's gotta take the damn car."

Nick hit the wheel of the borrowed car in frustration.

"I just got under a car and got a grease spot for nothing?" Hank asked angrily.

Nick sighed. Alright then, new plan, "I'm going to follow him on foot. You stay here, take a look around the house. See if you can find that broken window."

Hank nodded his agreement, "That'll give us a warrant which gives us DNA."

Nick rushed out of the car, hurrying to follow Billy Capra. Once he caught sight of the man again, he slowed down, tailing him. He'd not been able to get the hang of tailing someone in the academy, he'd either lost the suspect or been spotted, but Hank had given him some pointers and Nick was decently skilled now. He just hoped Billy Capra wasn't _too_ aware of his surroundings. Nick tailed Billy Capra for several miles, waiting for the _Ziegevolk_ to go inside one of the stores. He wondered where Billy was headed off to and hoped he hadn't been made.

Nick followed Billy Capra to a big building. Nick watched as Billy hid away from others and looked around, taking several moments to be sure no one was watching. Then Billy took a toad, one of the toads he'd been so devastated over back in the garden, and proceeded to put it in his mouth, chew, and swallow the poor creature like a meal. Nick wants to feel disgusted, but this new fact is honestly the least of his problems right now. Instead, he watched in morbid fascination as Billy Capra continued walking.

The _Ziegevolk_ stopped for a moment, tilted his head from side to side as a _woge_ took over his body. He smoothed back the tufts of hair at the sides of his face, above where a normal Human's ears would be. Then the _woge_ receded and Billy turned on his heel to walk inside a large building, specifically a bar. Nick pulled out his phone and called Monroe, knowing this would be something he'd need the older man to help with. Monroe picked up quickly, " _Hello?_ "

Nick hummed, Monroe must be done working for the night. "Hey, it's me."

Nick could feel the surprise through the phone. Monroe was justified, he had just gotten a new number after all. " _How did you get the new number so fast?_ "

"Are you kidding me? I'm a cop, Monroe," Nick teased. He'd gotten it from Rosalee, who'd been with Monroe when he'd picked the new phone up not even half an hour ago. "I need your help."

" _What do I have to do?_ " Monroe asked curiously.

"All you have to do is go to a bar," Nick began.

Monroe interrupted, " _That I can do._ "

" _And_ watch a guy, tell me what he does," Nick concluded.

Monroe was silent for a moment, "Okay, who's buying the drinks?"

Nick wanted to laugh, but refrained, "Me." Monroe's question was valid. The clock business hadn't yet really caught much in the way of commissions or customers. At the moment, Nick and Rosalee were the only steady sources of income. Monroe was guaranteed to get some money off of this particular incursion, but Nick would be happy to pay for drinks and whatever else Monroe wanted to buy. Besides, Monroe was doing this as a favor to Nick, why wouldn't Nick give the money.

" _Alright_ ," Monroe agreed, " _Where do I have to be?_ "

Nick glanced up at the name of the bar with a sigh, "Blood Moon bar. You know it?"

" _Do I know it?_ " Monroe asked. " _I'm there, Nicky. See you in a few._ "

Nick heard the sounds of the car engine revving and he smiled. "See you then."

_(Back in the hotel, Renard slipped out of Slivitch's room without a drop of blood on him. The man would go home sans his ear but that was a sacrifice Renard would make again.)_

Monroe must've been close to the bar because he showed up a few minutes after they hung up. He wore his Bluetooth piece, hurrying over to Nick with an excited hitch in his step. "Okay, who am I supposed to be?"

Nick smiled at the excitement Monroe displayed. "Just yourself."

Monroe's excitement died a little, "That's a little disappointing."

"Okay," Nick looked up the distance between their heights, noting not for the first time, that Monroe was a very intimidating man. Not to Nick, but most other people. A big part of the reason he'd asked Monroe instead of Rosalee, the other being Rosalee would be more susceptible to the pheromones that Billy Capra put out. "There's a _Ziegevolk_ in the bar. He's average height, kind of on the skinny side-"

Monroe cut into Nick's explanation, equal parts fond, exasperated, and loving, "I know a _Ziegevolk_ when I smell one, Nicky."

Nick nodded, "Call me when you get inside, okay? I want to know what he does, who he talks to."

Monroe tilted his head curiously, "How come you're not doing this?" Nick had done a stint undercover for a few months, so he'd know what he was doing. Why did he need Monroe?

"He's seen me. He knows I'm a cop. Plus, I want you to do it because you know about _Ziegevolk,_ " Nick replied effortlessly. He didn't mention that he didn't want to test the theory that the pheromones a Z _iegevolk_ produced would work on him just as well as they would on any woman.

He didn't say it, but Monroe picked up on it anyway. He didn't comment on the idea, however, knowing Nick wouldn't admit it out loud. "Oh, Grimm work," Monroe's eyes regained their excitement.

Nick nodded, then remember, "Oh one more thing. I saw him eating a toad?"

Monroe didn't look scared, but he did look faintly disgusted, "He's a toad eater? That means he's not just a breeder. He's a herder, okay?" Monroe then looked perplexed and a tad shocked, "That's very rare for a _Ziegevolk_."

Nick glanced back at the doors, "Well, rare or not, this guy's a serial rapist. You've got to get inside, I need to know what he's doing."

Monroe sighed, "Okay," then held out a hand.

Nick was confused for a moment, then recognition flickered in his eyes and he pulled his wallet out from his back pocket, digging out some cash and handing it to his taller lover. "Thank you for doing this, I know it's dangerous for you."

"No place I'd rather be," Monroe replied with a smile. Then he turned and headed inside the bar.

Nick's phone buzzed as the doors closed behind the brunette male, he answered it with a quick greeting on the off chance it wasn't Monroe, the relaxed minimally when Monroe answered, " _I see him._ "

"Okay, what's he doing?" Nick asked.

" _Trolling. Talking to a very attractive woman. He's got game tonight._ " A sniff as Monroe scented to air, " _That must've been one potent toad he ate. I can smell him from here._ "

Nick felt a flash of sympathy for Monroe, knowing his nose was very sensitive, "Can you get closer to him, I need to hear what he's saying."

Monroe's smile was tangible. He was excited to be helping the police, the same way he'd wanted to since he started dating a police officer, " _Check this out, I'm moving in on the bar- 'Scuse me, pal. There's an opening directly to her left. I'm about 20 feet from the bar right now, I can be at the opening in about-_ "

Nick cut Monroe off. "Okay, you've seen one too many cop movies, Monroe," he teased, "I don't need to know everything you're doing."

" _Well, excuse me for being thorough. Sorry, I'm not talking to you."_ On any other night, Monroe might've been upset, but Nick knew there wasn't any anger in Monroe's tone.

Nick's phone buzzed again and he put Monroe's call on hold, "Yeah?"

" _Hey, Nick, I think I found that window that was broken. I found a sliver of glass outside and the putty around the window was new._ " Hank's voice was just short of breathless.

Nick's mind began running the possibilities of how they would nail this guy, then it came to grinding halt when he got stuck on what Hank had said, "You're inside the house?"

" _We've got probable cause here. I'm going to see if I can get a sample of that guy's DNA. You still got him?_ "

"Yeah, he's at the Blue Moon Bar."

" _You can see him?_ "

"No, Monroe's inside. He's seen me, I can't risk it."

Nick could hear the surprise in Hank's voice when the older man said, " _I didn't think you'd want them anywhere near this case._ "

Nick shrugged, though Hank couldn't see him, "I don't have any other CIs. I'm not comfortable with it, but you know. Can't avoid it."

" _Okay. Well, call me if he starts back here,_ " Hank replied.

Nick agreed and hung up, going back to the call with Monroe. He re-entered the call as Monroe was getting to the bar. _"I think humans are malleable. I just- I think everyone needs, uh... emotional and physical rebirth."_

A female voice, _"I totally agree._ "

" _Right?_ " asked the first voice.

 _"Yeah,"_ replied the female.

" _So you've got to have someplace to do it,_ " continued the first voice.

Monroe's voice, " _Barkeep, double dead guy, please._ "

" _A sanctuary, a place where the world can't intrude. A retreat for people just like you,_ " said Billy Capra.

There was a deep breath and Nick sighed, worried for the taller man and the poor woman that seemed to be Billy Capra's next victim. " _That sounds like exactly what I need._ " The conversation continued, including trivia on the bramble bush and some other things, then there was a soft thud as the bartender set down Monroe's requested drink and audible gulps. Nick raised an eyebrow briefly, hoping Monroe wasn't running into trouble. His worry was soothed somewhat when Monroe came rushing out of the bar.

Still, Nick had to know, "What are you doing?"

Monroe shook his head, "No way, I can't be around that guy. He's way too potent I almost bought him a drink."

Nick sighed. He almost wanted to send Monroe back in, but if Monroe couldn't go back in then Nick would respect that. "Okay, I need to get back in there. I need to figure out what he's doing."

"He's hitting on a girl, she's buying the full toad. He gave her his card," Monroe replied.

Nick, however, wasn't listening. He'd caught sight of Billy Capra coming out of the bar and was trying to hide his face. It didn't work, Billy had spotted Nick and was coming over. Monroe had noticed the panic and had turned, to see the _Ziegevolk_ traipsing his way up to Nick like he was waiting for the smaller male to melt. Monroe hating this man immediately.

"Detective!" the _Ziegevolk_ grinned, "How's your case going?"

"It's going well," Nick replied, "We've got a few leads."

"I'm glad. And who's this? Not your partner from yesterday" Billy Capra cut his eyes to Monroe, gaze sharp as he looked Monroe up and down, appraising him like a slab of rotting meat.

"Not my partner from yesterday, no," Nick didn't want to introduce this man to his one of his life-partners.

Monroe decided for him, holding out a hand, "I'm Monroe, Nick is my boyfriend." He hadn't _meant_ to sound possessive, but it was that or give into _Wesen_ instinct to make his eyes glow, and this was the safer option.

Billy didn't hesitate to shake Monroe's hand, a horrid, sugary smile on his lips, "Pleasure. You'll have to come by the Bramble House sometime, Detective. When the case is over."

Nick was _visibly_ uncomfortably as Billy Capra leaned over, subtly moving closer to Monroe, "Maybe."

Billy patted Nick's shoulder, then turned and walked away; leaving a flustered Detective and a pissed off _Blutbad_ behind. "You want me to track him?"

Nick shook his head, "No, you're done. You did great, thank you. You can-" he struggled against every part of him that wanted to betray his life-partners for a moment, "You can go home now."

Monroe shook his head, "I don't want to go home now, Nicky. I've got a clock to get back to its owner and the adrenaline hasn't worn off just yet." He scrutinized his younger lover for a moment, "Are you okay?"

Nick shook his head but didn't give a verbal answer. Monroe hummed, then pulled Nick into a hug, once more rooting out all the scents of last night and covering them with his own. "You're a trouble magnet. I can't take you anywhere," Monroe murmured.

Nick sighed, relaxing marginally and hugging Monroe back. "I need to get going, he's gotten far ahead and Hank's still at his house."

Monroe nodded, "Alright. Call me when you're done, okay?" Nick nodded, then pecked Monroe's cheek and raced off after Billy Capra. It was then that the _Blutbad_ let his eyes glow and his teeth sharpen. Oh, he wanted to kill that goat. He'd been showing off when he'd touched Nick. Monroe knew lust when he saw it, and the _Ziegevolk_ was sporting a flashing, neon sign. Nick was an independent person, but that didn't mean Monroe wouldn't protect him with his last breath.

Monroe turned and got back in the car and drove off, using every ounce of will power not to follow Nick.

_Grimm~Grimm~Grimm_

Nick trailed after Billy Capra, calling Hank and getting no answer. He called a few more times, "Hey, come on, man. Where are you?" The phone continued to ring and ring. "Pick up the damn phone, he's on his way home!" Nick huffed, clicked off his phone and rushing after Billy Capra again. He hoped Hank had gotten out in time, but he knew Hank would never ignore his calls while they were on the job. Billy made it back to the Bramble House and Nick paused, glancing over at the car he and Hank had been using for the night. Hank wasn't in there.

Nick debated calling again, but when he pulled out his phone, he dialed a different number instead. " _Portland Police,_ " answered the dispatch officer on duty.

"Yeah, it's Detective Burkhardt. I need a 20 on Detective Griffin. Track his cell," Nick requested.

" _Tracking now,_ " replied the officer.

"Yeah, I'll stay on the line." Nick was worried enough, he didn't want to have to call back. Then Nick heard a car pull up and he glanced over. He watched a young woman get out of the car and head toward the sidewalk.

" _Still tracking,_ " the officer on the line said.

Nick made a split-second decision and told the officer, "Alright. Call me back when you find him." Then he watched as the woman opened the door and walked inside the house. He didn't know who the woman was, but she was walking into something she wouldn't be able to handle and Nick couldn't have that. He'd be worrying about protecting her and over his partner and Nick couldn't do both. He headed toward the house. He bounded up the steps and pushed open the door just as the woman was about to head off with Billy to what Nick assumed was the Garden.

"Detective," Billy said. "What can I do for you?"

"I need to talk to her," Nick replied, his eyes on the woman.

"Me?" she asked curiously.

Nick turned his focus to her; offered a smile in hopes of setting her at ease, "Would you mind stepping outside? I just need to ask you a few questions."

"Am I in trouble?" The woman's worried where valid. When people get questioned by the police, most of the time they were in trouble. Nick wished this woman would just go with him, he needed her to leave as soon as possible.

"What's this all about?" Billy Capra interjected.

Nick ignored him, keeping his eyes on the woman, "Just come outside, please." He didn't want to hurt her and if she didn't want to go, he couldn't make her leave. He hoped she understood the danger she was facing, even if she didn't know she was facing it.

Billy Capra turned to her, setting a hand on her shoulder, "I'm sure it'll be fine. Why don't you go with him and I'll be here when you get back." She smiled and nodded as if he could actually stop her. Then he set a hand on the small of her back and escorted her to the door, Nick waited until she'd passed through the door before he glanced at Billy Capra and was gone, following the woman out the door.

The woman stopped on the porch and turned to face Nick, "I wish you'd just tell me what this is all about."

Nick glanced at the door to make sure Billy wasn't listening in, then turned to the woman. "You've walked into the middle of a police investigation," he told her, "And I need you to leave the premises." Nick's phone rang and he dug it out of his pocket. The woman didn't move, glancing back at the door like she still wanted to go inside. "Now!" Nick demanded, gesturing in the direction of the woman's car.

The woman startled then looked at his and nodded. She sighed, then headed down the stairs and to her car.

Nick watched her go, picking up the phone and answering it, "Yeah?"

" _We've got a 20 on Detective Griffin,_ " answered the officer on the line. " _We've identified the location as the Bramble House Bed and Breakfast on Longacre Road._ "

Nick felt the panic in his chest increase, but he pushed it away, "Thanks." He hung up the phone and headed back toward the door. Billy Capra was not standing in the living room as Nick had left him. Nick pulled out his gun and entered the house, hoping that whatever had happened to Hank, that the older man was okay. He checked one part of the room, then another, looking for Hank or Billy Capra, or both. He pulled out his phone as the idea occurred to him, then dialed Hank's number and listened for the corresponding ringing.

It was faint, but Nick could hear it in the distance, sounding like it came from the walls of this Hell-hole itself. Nick shoved his phone into his pocket, then followed the sound, his gun at the ready in case Billy decided to pull some kind of stupid stunt. Nick followed the ringing down into the basement of the house, where it grew louder. He pushed open a door, the creaking hinges thunderous in the quiet of the house. "Hank?" Nick called into the quiet of the house, "Hank?"

Nick pulled his flashlight and shined it in the dark. He noticed the door on the other side and carefully made his way over to it. He wrenched it open and flashed the light inside the room, there where groans inside the room, but all female. "Where are you?" Nick asked his absent partner.

"Nick," called another voice, softer and breathless.

Nick glanced around, then rushed over, "What happened?" He knelt next to Hank, worry radiation off his being. Flashes of Adalind laying crumpled on the ground and Monroe warring with his instincts in the woods invaded his mind against his will. Nick didn't know what he'd do if another person he cared about got hurt.

"I don't know, man. There's some kind of gas," Hank flashed his light at the cages, kneeling on the ground in front of them. "Look here."

Nick looked at the cage, seeing three women curled up and fully drugged.

"Are they real?" Hank asked.

Nick couldn't help but wonder what Hank had seen that would make him question if these three women where real or not, but if the woman looked that drugged then Nick could only imagine what Hank had just been through. Suddenly the door slammed shut, a click signaling that it had been locked, and a hissing sound filled the air. "He's got some kind of gas coming in here," Nick said, pulling Hank up by the arm.

Hank stumbled toward the cage, "Gotta get them out of here."

Nick redirected him, shoving the older man's shoulder to get him to go the other way. "We've gotta shut that gas off first. We'll come back for them," Nick promised.

They were just getting to the door when Hank screamed, "You see that?"

"What are you talking about?" Nick asked. Then he pulled Hank back, "Stand back." He raised his weapon, intending to simply fire it at the lock, but Hank shoved his arms down, "No, the gasp is gonna blow! We gotta find something to break this door open."

"No-No time," Nick said as he looked around briefly, "Just us." He came back and prepared himself to ram himself into a solid, wooden object, "Let's do it."

Hank nodded, then counted down, "One... Two... Three." They launched themselves toward the door and it stayed intact with a loud thud. "Again!" Hank said as they backed up. He counted down again. "One... Two... Three!" This time when they threw themselves at the door, a loud crack split the air as the doorjamb splintered apart and the door swung open.

Nick caught his breath first and immediately rushed over to the valves he saw, pushing them to the side and shutting off the gas. He panted, trying to calm down enough to stop his racing heart. Then he rushed back inside the room and started working on the cages. Who knew how long those women had been in there. He heard Hank calling for ambulances and back-up. Nick was horrified at the state of the women, covered in blood and other bodily fluids.

As he tore open the first cage, Nick heard the sirens in the background and breathed a sigh of relief. Help was on the way and they had enough to nail this guy. For now, he focussed on helping the first woman (clearly pregnant) out of the cage. The three women were checked out and given mostly clean bills of health. Aside from the sexual assault, they where fine.

Nick finished talking to Kida Milo and offered her a smile, "You're going to be alright now. It's over." She nodded as the paramedic took her blood pressure, eyes a little dull and cloudy from the drugs, but she was alive and that was what mattered.

Nick looked up as Hank came down from the house, "House is clean, the car is gone. He's in the wind."

Nick followed Hank as he started towards their car. "God, I'd hate to lose this son of a bitch," Nick admitted softly, voice sharp and eyes hard.

"No more than I do," Hank replied angrily.

Nick got it, Hank had been breathing that bastard's gas for almost an hour before Nick had found him. Those women had been there for far longer. Nick understood why Hank wanted the _Ziegevolk_ behind bars. They just had to find him first. They got back to the car with full intent on heading back to the precinct to figure out how they were going to track Billy Capra when Hank picked up the pad they'd used to send the tracking data to.

Nick looked up at Hank and Hank looked back at Nick. With a quick nod shared between them, Hank flipped open the cover and pleaded, "Let it be my birthday."

They looked at the pad together and to their excitement, there was the blinking red dot, moving up the highway. They glanced at each other with smiles as Nick started the car. "You didn't get that grease spot for nothing," the younger male told his partner.

They found Billy Capra at a waterfall. He ran when he saw them, bolting down the steps like a man possessed. They called after him, shouting for him to stop, but Billy kept running. They chased him up to the railing, where they cornered him and aimed their guns. They called for other people around to get down and in the moment they were distracted, Billy _woged_ and jumped over the edge, landing on the rocks below. Nick and Hank rushed over to the edge, watching as Billy jumped down to the ground again before the _woge_ receded and Billy was running again. Billy raced into the street without watching where he was going. A bus horn honked, but Billy was too late in noticing it and the bus hit him head-on. Billy went flying to the pavement and laid there groaning. Hank and Nick raced down, glanced at each other, then Hank knelt next to the man and Nick called for an ambulance.

The ambulance was there quickly and Nick and Hank watched as Billy was loaded into the back. "He's one sick dude," Hank remarked.

"We'll send his DNA to Tuscon, De Moines, and Detroit, and I'm betting it's the same guy," Nick replied.

"Well, at least he's off the streets and out of the hotel business," Hank sighed, "I can't believe women want to be near this guy."

Nick thought about the way that Billy had leaned in at the bar and patted his shoulder like he'd _known_ it would bother the dark-haired detective. He thought about the way that, after he'd met with Billy both times, Monroe and Rosalee had immediately wrapped Nick in hugs and covered him in their scents instead. "You know what?" he began thoughtfully, "I'm betting it's the toads." Nick could swing that based on the way Billy had reacted to Hank accidentally crushing one under-foot.

Hank laughed. "Yeah, right. Toads," he said, "If only it was that easy. Maybe I'll get me some toads."

Nick wished he could say it truly was that easy as they headed back to the precinct, but he couldn't. Hank would never believe him and Nick wasn't willing to share this secrete just yet. He glanced back at Billy Capra as he followed Hank to the car. One of the officers on the scene would go and stay with him until he was better and could be transferred into police custody for the trial and subsequent jail time. He hoped Billy went to jail for a _long_ time.

He narrowed his eyes, "See how he likes being in a cage for the rest of his life." Then he turned and walked away, not looking back once.

_Grimm~Grimm~Grimm_

Nick went home that night with the case-work done and feeling still slightly horrified, but better than he had the previous night.

He walked in exhausted but happy, pulled off his gun and badge, setting them on the side table to be taken up to the bedroom later, then pulled off his shoes and jacket, putting them away in their respective places. "I'm home!" he called into the house.

Monroe and Rosalee came from the kitchen, greeting Nick as he locked the door back and bounded over. He pulled them both into hugs, kissing Rosalee first, then Monroe. "I love you both," he murmured, holding them close.

They glanced at each other when Nick pulled back to go upstairs to shower and change, taking his gun and badge with him. Rosalee raised her eyebrows, curiosity making her brown eyes light up, but Monroe shrugged. Monroe then growled when he caught another whiff of the _Ziegevolk_ pheromones. Rosalee looked at him and huffed, jerking her head out the back door. Monroe left and Rosalee went to get the Febreeze. It wouldn't be okay, but it would be better until they could air out the house tomorrow.

Nick came back down twenty minutes later with his hair damp and his eyes bright. He wore flannel pajama pants and a white t-shirt that might've been Monroe's at one point, but God only knew anymore. He smiled as he told them about his day, happily chatting away about how he'd arrested Billy Capra and gotten him off the streets. He stood still when Monroe pressed his nose into Nick's pale neck, letting Monroe do what he didn't to, then let Rosalee do the same. He was content to let them herd him up to their bed and laughed when they cuddled into him as they laid in bed The case had been difficult and Billy Capra had certainly tried, but there was nowhere Nick would rather be than curled up in bed with his two favorite people in the world. As he closed his eyes to let sleep claim him, Nick thought that maybe his Grimm heritage wasn't so bad after all. It had let him know his lovers better, so maybe it wasn't all bad.

Nick sighed, then fell peacefully asleep, happy to be rid of cases and police work, even if it was only for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> (1) With the discourse on the Wikia page, I decided to take a wack with Google Translate. Please let me know if the translation is incorrect, I try to be as authentic as possible.
> 
> (2) I am fully aware of the issues that could come with using a personal phone to make work-related calls and have decided that in this universe, Renard has provided his officers with on-duty cell phones for work-related calls. No, the policemen do not take them home, they are kept in the peoples' lockers when they are not on-duty. Once they clock out for the day, the phones (much like their weapons) are locked in their lockers. I headcanon that Nick keeps both phones on him. Personal in his jacket pocket and work-cell in his pants pocket.


End file.
